Town in Need
by Phelan
Summary: Klamath is too small for a guardian. The Chosen One must step in. (Not quite R material, but some violence and language)


Another day in the great outdoors. We'd been driving for hours, taking shifts as we fought boredom-induced drowsiness. While Vic drove, I monkeyed with my Avenger. I'd test fired it on a batch of Deathclaws yesterday, and though it worked, it kept making some kinda grinding noise as it spooled up. Vic may be a master at electronics, but he doesn't know as much as me when it comes to the slug-throwers. Besides, I might be able to improve on the origional...always worth looking into. Since leaving Vault City a third time, Vic and I had turned west to pick up Sulik. Two people just can't alternate shifts on guard duty. And we now had so much stuff that having a third member would help us cart it all around. We crested a small hill just outside of Klamath, and I told Vic to stop. I got out and started putting away my minigun so that the casual observer wouldn't see it if we left our car unattended.  
  
With the gun and tools stashed in the trunk again, I was about to get back in my seat when smoke began to rise from somewhere within the small town.  
  
"Shit. Vic, get your guns, we may have some bandits trying to make a name for themselves."  
  
He got out, taking his Desert Eagle from under his seat, and went to the trunk to get the rest of his stuff. I pulled my sniper rifle from off the dashboard and started looking through the scope at the scene below. Though not the best angle for looking down any of the streets, I saw something *big* moving slowly near the bathhouse. A quick check showed something big, green, and carrying an ugly looking gun that I probably couldn't carry if I wanted to.  
  
"Dammit, looks like at least one supermutie. Vic, forget the usual stuff. Get the 'Giant Killer.'"  
  
I lowered the gun, turned and saw him over the lid of the trunk, his eyebrow raised in a "you've got to be kidding me" look. I laid the sniper rifle back on the dash, opened the back door and began pulling out our damned heavy metal armor. I shucked my more comfortable leather gear and began changing, while Vic set some heavy firepower on the ground. Until I got my belt-fed baby working, I insisted on keeping an M-60 handy. That was set down, alongside a Pancor Jackhammer and two gauss pistols I had *aquired* through some contacts of mine.  
  
"Hey, get my hunting rifle while you're at it. I won't be able to use the sniper in the streets."  
  
He nodded and ducked his head back into the depths of the trunk. (Or as I liked to call it, the munitions bunker.) Picking up Vic's armor, I lugged it over to him as he pulled my rifle out. He took the armor and started changing, while I pulled out boxes, belts, and clips of ammo, all varying in size and lethality. I left a big box of shotgun ammo for Vic's Pancor, and half of the gauss ammo, but I took all the .223 and 7.62 for myself. I picked up and holstered the gauss pistol, slung the scoped rifle over my shoulder, and grabbed the machine gun. I posed dramatically for Vic as he finished with the last of the armor plating.  
  
"Geez, don't you think that's a little overkill? You said you only saw one supermutie."  
  
"Yeah, but I'd rather carry too much than not enough."  
  
"Good point."  
  
"Of course it is. Now if you're done dressing up, go get the damn 'Giant Killer!'"  
  
"Alright, alright!" He slammed the trunk shut and reached for the roof rack. As he turned his back, he muttered, "Damn pyro."  
  
"What was that? I am not some loony pyromaniac! I just happen to take delight in watching my enemies eat HE warheads."  
  
"Exactly, you're a damn pyro!"  
  
"Just shaddap or you're walking to San Fran."  
  
With that, he let his shoulders droop, then went back to pulling down the rocket launcher that I had painted black, with the words "Giant Killer" in bright red lettering. He slung the heavy implement of destruction and mayhem over his shoulder, then went back to collect the rest of his arsenal. We left the car there, and began an easy jog (yeah right, not with this arsenal) into town. I heard some gunfire erupting from trapper town, I guess the big guy was on the move. As Vic and I moved down the main street, we saw what could only be a body. Even at fifty yards, the smell of burnt flesh and hair managed to reach us. I've gotten used to things like that in the two years since leaving Arroyo, but the smell always eats away at you. I walked up to the charred and cracked patch of asphalt it was lying on; some kind of flamethrower, and this person was well done. At least it wasn't anyone I knew from the area. Vic and I both headed for Buckner's inn, to see if anyone was hiding in there. The door had been smashed aside, and it looked like whatever humans had been there had left through several windows. We stepped in, trying to be quiet but failing miserably as our armor, weapons, and ammo all announced our presence for us with a variety of jingles, clanks, and scrapes. As we went further into the room, I thought I heard some rustling behind the counter. It could have been someone, or it could be one of the ridiculously large rats from trapper town trying to escape the mutated monster that was terrorizing the area. I slung my M60 and pulled my hunting rifle before peeking over the edge. Wide blue eyes stared back at me with total fear. I smiled a (hopefully) polite smile and said, "Don't worry, Miss Buckner, we know there's a mutie out there. We'll get him, but we could use Sulik's help. Where'd he go?"  
  
She stood up, wringing her hands and looking out the window to make sure we were safe. Then she shook her head and told us that he had jumped out the window when the mutie was busy ripping down the door. Damn, Vic and I had to track him down. We had the firepower, but it takes more than two to tango with a super mutant. Ah well. I told Miss B. that she could stay hidden or make a break for our car, whatever she wanted. She suddenly made up her mind when she looked out the window, gasped, and dove back behind the counter again. I figured the mutie was back, and spun around as I reached for my M60 again. Vic was hiding just to the side of the door, ready to shoot out the door the moment that beast came within range. I just started firing, the heavy thud-thud-thud of the machine gun filling my head. A stream of lead shot through the doorway, a nice mix of tracers and hot lead. Every tenth round showed I was on target, the yellow flare zipping downrange to pelt the green hide of my enemy. Dropping to his knees, Vic got below my field of fire and poked the muzzle of his Pancor around the frame of the door. At a hundred feet, a shell's pellets would bounce off that tough hide with hardly any notice, but he had wisely loaded up with slugs. The beast roared and started charging. Slowly picking up speed, it barreled towards us, hoping to bring the flamer to bear before we could shred him. I watched the tenth tracer hit, and my weapon fell silent, the last few bullet casings falling in a cascade to the wooden floor.  
  
I dropped it, pulling my gauss pistol with my right hand, while my left slid my rifle off my back. I let the rifle hang by its strap as I fired it one handed, point-shooting as the creature closed. I missed, but I didn't really care as I brought the more powerful pistol up at arm's length. There was that electric hum as the magnets flung the tiny projectile down the barrel far faster than any explosion ever could. The small slug of depleted uranium, wrapped in nickel, slammed into the big guy's shoulder, actually spinning him a little. He stumbled, but recovered and kept charging. Vic cranked out the rest of his ammo while I sent a second shot at the mutie's leg. This time, the titan fell. I heard a bellow of pain, and watched as the mutant tried to stand with a ruined knee. Come *on*, don't these guys know when to quit? While Vic reloaded, I holstered my pistol (hey, those wonderful little things aren't cheap) and this time, I took careful aim with the .223. I hit the neck, and the roar of pain became a gurgle as the shot hit the windpipe. Even supermutants gotta breathe, right? Blood pouring from so many wounds, it managed to stumble another ten steps before collapsing again. Vic stood, poking his head out the doorway and looked for more enemies. I picked up my machine gun and started loading a second belt. Once done, I fed two more rounds into both the pistol and rifle. When all the noise stopped, Miss Buckner slowly raised her head from cover and shot me a questioning look. I nodded, and she got up. Brushing away a stray tear, she shook a little, and then let out a deep breath.  
  
"Did you see any other critters come into town with that thing?"  
  
"N-no, but I don't know about the men over in trapper town, or even if there's anyone left at the Golden Gecko."  
  
"Alright. I think it'd be a good idea for you to either stick with us, or get yourself to our car."  
  
"Where is it?"  
  
"East, just at the top of the second biggest hill out that way. Mile, mile and a half."  
  
"No, that thing came from the east!"  
  
"Alright, but if you're going to be with us, keep quiet and stay low. You a good shot?"  
  
"Who isn't, in a place like this?"  
  
"Forget I asked. Here, take my rifle." I also passed her a small box of ammo, forty shots or so. The gun seemed much larger in her small hands, but I wasn't about to let her have my *very* expensive pistol. We left, the barrel of my M60 taking the lead, Vic in the rear, and Miss B. protected between us. 


End file.
